Top 5 male experiences:
1. December 2021 & October 2023
2. Having no one
3. Being dead broke
4. Finding out what L3 and R3 was
5. Fumbling that one girl that really liked you
I am a Microsoft security architect.
In 1994, researchers discovered RC4 was fundamentally broken.
We made it the default cipher in Windows anyway.
By 2000, every machine on Earth was running it.
We called it "battle-tested."
Technically true. It lost every battle.
In 2013, more researchers confirmed it was still broken.
We published a knowledge base article thanking them for their passion.
In 2015, the entire industry formally deprecated it.
We kept it enabled by default.
Compatibility is more important than security.
Security is just compatibility with not being hacked.
Hospitals ran their patient records through it.
Banks authenticated their transactions with it.
Fortune 500 companies trusted their crown jewels to it.
The Ascension breach happened. 5.6 million patient records. 140 hospitals offline.
Ransomware walked through our cipher like it wasn't there.
It basically wasn't.
Senator Wyden called it "gross cybersecurity negligence."
He demanded an FTC investigation.
We released a statement thanking him for his continued partnership.
After 26 years of careful consideration, we've made a decision.
We're going to disable RC4 by default.
In mid-2026.
We're giving everyone 18 months notice.
Because we believe in thoughtful transitions.
We've been thoughtfully transitioning since the Clinton administration.
Two Clintons could have run for president in the time we've been "evaluating options."
Some things are just hard to kill off.
Like a legacy cipher.
Or institutional momentum.
Or the phrase "we take security seriously."
We do take it seriously.
We just don't take it urgently.
Urgency is for startups.
We're a mature organization.
We mature our vulnerabilities like fine wine.
26 years.
That's not negligence.
That's commitment.
I am a lead game developer on Clair Obscur: Expedition 33.
Last year we shipped an indie RPG.
It was beautiful.
The environments were stunning.
The character designs were unique.
The textures were immaculate.
We made them with AI.
Just a little.
40% of the assets.
Maybe 60%.
Okay, most of them.
But the vision was human.
The prompts were handcrafted.
That's artistry.
Someone asked if we used generative AI.
I said no.
They asked again on the submission form.
I checked "no" again.
Checking boxes is not the same as lying.
It's administrative efficiency.
We were nominated for an indie award.
Two indie awards.
We won both.
Game of the Year.
Debut Game.
The community celebrated.
We celebrated.
Then someone on Twitter found the metadata.
The metadata that said "Midjourney v6."
In 847 files.
I called it "a pipeline artifact."
Artifact means mistake.
Mistake means not our fault.
They asked why we said no AI.
I said we interpreted the question differently.
Differently means incorrectly.
Incorrectly means strategically.
The awards committee asked for clarification.
I clarified.
I said yes, we used AI.
But only for "ideation."
Ideation means the entire visual style.
But the word sounds harmless.
Harmless words are important.
They stripped our awards.
Both of them.
I was shocked.
For some reason, lying on the submission form was disqualifying.
I called it "a technicality."
They called it "fraud."
Same thing. Different framing.
The community turned on us.
They said we stole an award from real indie devs.
I said we ARE real indie devs.
We just used tools.
Tools that replaced the artists.
But tools nonetheless.
Someone asked why we didn't just disclose.
I said disclosure wasn't required.
It was literally required.
On the form.
That I signed.
Saying no AI.
But required is subjective.
A journalist asked for comment.
I said we were "disappointed by the decision."
Disappointed means we got caught.
Decision means consequences.
Consequences are for other people.
Usually.
The awards went to the runners-up.
Games made by humans.
Humans who spent years on their art.
Without AI.
Like animals.
I don't understand the backlash.
Every studio uses AI now.
We just admitted it.
At the worst possible time.
After lying about it.
Publicly.
On a legal document.
But otherwise, very transparent.
Someone said we should apologize.
I said we'd "reflect on the situation."
Reflect means wait for people to forget.
People always forget.
Usually.
Our Discord is in flames.
I muted notifications.
Muting is self-care.
The refund requests are up 400%.
I called it "engagement."
Engagement means attention.
Attention means relevance.
We're very relevant right now.
My co-founder asked if we should have just told the truth.
I said truth is complicated.
He asked how.
I said "the AI disclosure landscape is evolving."
Evolving means we make up the rules as we go.
He looked concerned.
I scheduled him for a "founder alignment session."
He stopped asking questions.
We're already planning the next game.
This time we'll use even more AI.
But we'll call it something else.
"Procedural asset generation."
"Neural-assisted workflows."
"Computational creativity."
Same thing. Different words.
Words are the real art.
The art the AI can't replace.
Yet.
I've been in game development for 12 years.
I've never seen a community this ungrateful.
We gave them a beautiful game.
They gave us consequences.
Very transactional.
Not very indie.
Thank you for playing our game.
Playing means you already paid.
Refunds require effort.
Effort is friction.
Friction is retention.
The circle of indie development.
There are no gods here, only monsters ⚔️
We're thrilled to reveal the first look at #TheWitcherIV — our upcoming single-player open-world RPG. It marks the beginning of a new saga with Ciri as a protagonist, embarking on her own journey to become a professional monster slayer.
Watch in 4K: https://t.co/dRUwF6X8yV